Be Flexible

I believe that any of the successes I have had in my life can be traced back to two things my parents taught me. My dad taught me to have a plan. To evaluate and predict upcoming situations and be prepared for them in advanced if possible. My mom taught me to be flexible and spontaneous. To not be stressed out when things don't go exactly the way I expected. They taught me other things, of course, like how to dress myself and how to spell my name correctly (although I never did live down the nickname Erni). Somehow I was in college before anyone realized I didn't know how to properly cut my own steak, but regardless, I learned a lot from them.

All of my life I have craved a plan. What time to leave the house... Knowing where I'm going ahead of time... If I'm not 10 minutes early then I'm late. I need To Do lists, charts, calendars, appointment confirmations, a schedule and a communication of the plan to all involved. I feel safe there. My dad would help me make sure my soccer bag was packed the night before, that I knew where I was going and when, and would remind me and teach me how to budget my time appropriately. Because of this I never, ever, started a paper the night before it was due... and I never ended up at any soccer games without the right uniform.

The plan wraps me in a big straight jacket and keeps me from losing my mind or breaking down. My best days include a plan, whether I was able to stick to that plan or not. My worst days are not because things didn't go as planned, but because there was no plan to follow in the first place. It also doesn't have to be my plan, just a plan. Some people find this planning to be exhausting... But I find it liberating, allowing me to focus on other things because the basic functions of the day have been decided.

On the other hand, if things don't go as planned I don't fall apart. I can be flexible and willing to accept that things will never always go as planned.  (I have my limits to how many times I can change plans before I get annoyed, but typically it takes a little while to get there.) My mom is more on the spontaneous side (although she can plan with the best of them - I remember one family vacation that would be spent with many hours in the car, and she had put together a small activity for each of us to keep us occupied for every day of the trip. I remember getting little brown paper lunch sacks with games or puzzle books each day. Had Pinterest existed back then, it would have been a popular "pin.") She taught me that life doesn't always require a plan to make sure things go right, although she was probably so level headed because she did the planning for us and had back up after back up to fall back on. If we planned a camping trip and something was missing, or lost, or plans went South, I could take a lesson from her on how she handled the set backs coolly, calmly, and with a smile and a shrug. Or maybe she's just THAT good at thinking on the fly.

Without a doubt I would say that I need schedule more than spontaneity. But in the last four weeks I am finding that a schedule isn't always the key to success, and that shocks me.

When Adam was a newborn he thrived on a schedule also. Even before I could put him on a feeding, sleeping, awake time schedule, he put himself on one. There were deviations, obviously, but our days were fairly predictable, down to what time he normally ate. This time around, that is definitely not the case. I plan for three hour cycles beginning with eating, diaper change, awake time, and nap time for each baby. But at the times when I expect them to be ready for some tummy time after a meal, a diaper change and a brief rest, one or both will fall asleep. Or throw up. When I set my watch to plan for their next feeding, perhaps that I should expect Claire to be hungry at 2:30 and Colin to be hungry around 2:45, I'm frequently thrown for a loop when Colin is screaming for food at 1:45 while Claire is pursing her lips and refusing to take a bottle until closer to 3.

In no way does this "ruin" my day. They have me out numbered and I accepted that after I found out I was having twins. The slight deviations probably would be barely noticeable if it were just one of them.

I'm now marveling at how frequently the LACK of a plan is what has gotten me through the day.
For two and a half weeks I kept three logs: one for when and how much Colin ate, one for when and how much Claire ate, and one for every time I pumped. (For two days I also kept a log of diaper changes for both of them, but that got too depressing so it didn't last long). I was looking for a natural rhythm that I could jump on to be able to plan around. There wasn't one. Between sleep cycles and doctor appointments, cluster feeding, growth spurts and flat out random events like dribbling half a bottle on Claire because I didn't tighten the lid enough or Colin randomly vomiting an entire bottle and then being hungry again 45 minutes later, I was looking for something that doesn't yet exist. So I quit with the logs. It was an extra pointless chore that had no real benefit. The feeding schedule works just as well if I make a mental note of the last time each of them ate.... And the pumping log only stressed me out because I wasn't seeing any changes despite all my efforts.

So they eat when they eat (with my coaxing to stay as close to 3 hour intervals as possible), and it's not a conspiracy against me. The only baby conspiracy going on here is the attempt to set records for how many diapers can be used in a day or how often a person can be peed on or thrown up on. (And no, I don't have a log of that either, although for posterity's sake it may be an interesting statistic).

Don't get me wrong, they are on a loose schedule... If they didn't at least eat around the same times I'd be feeding babies all day long and never sleep. But as far as being about to expect anything around here any more... Well, I just had to give up for now. I'm taking a lesson from Colin and just going with the flow...

I survive each day by being prepared. Laundry is constantly being done so I have clean blankets, clothes, and burp cloths, and then I don't put the laundry away. I fold it and leave it in the living room. Their bottles are made at least one feeding in advance, but usually more. The house is a disaster, but the laundry is done, the living room is clear of toys, and the bottles are washed. And that's the bare minimum.

Last week was their one month check up, and Colin was 7 lbs 8 oz, Claire was 7 lbs. Both are 20 inches long. They are still below 5th percentile for weight, but Claire is in the 10th percentile for height. They will eventually catch up. Yesterday Claire had a follow up at the pediatric urologist and her fetal hydronephrosis has resolved itself. Coincidentally, I had decided even before I knew that to take her off the Amoxicillan, suspecting that she was having a bad reaction to it that was actually causing her acid reflux to be worse... or that the "acid reflux" is actually a terrible reaction to the antibiotic. She has been off of it now for two days, and she's doing better already. 

I don't love this picture of me, but I want to remember how tiny Claire is.

Yesterday was my original due date (July 18). It's like a light bulb went off - they are nursing better, they are drinking from their bottles better and with less dribbling, and they are stronger. Neither wants to be left behind on the developmental track. Claire is more smiley (sleepy smiles) and even chuckled Sheldon Cooper-style in her sleep yesterday.  Colin has always been more alert and is awake more often. I think the social smile is very close so I'm frequently in his face begging for smiles.

On Monday, at 5 weeks old, Claire rolled over from her tummy to her back three times in a row. I kept rolling her over, and she kept flipping back. Like it was easy. Like she couldn't stop doing it. Then later that night, not to be left behind, Colin did it too. He was utterly exhausted after, but I admire his determination. He even had Adam cheering him on and telling him what a good job he was doing.

On average babies roll over near or around three months old. Adam rolled over at 2 weeks old. For Claire and Colin to roll over on the same day, let alone two days before their actual due date and two months before schedule, is pretty incredible. And I realize that I am in Trouble with a capital "T."

Speaking of Trouble, Adam is doing very well with his extra days at home and although he still has short episodes where he suddenly insists on sitting on my lap while I'm nursing one baby or bottle feeding two babies, he's adjusting very well. His favorite chore is feeding Caley her dinner, emptying the dishwasher (with help), and he frequently begs to hold babies (in fact it's the only thing that will make him sit still). When visitors come over he runs to look out the window to see what kind of car they drive. He's a little parrot, repeating everything we say, and gets really upset when we can't understand him.

I went out and bought a bunch of supplies and organized them in individual ziploc bags so that when Adam is on the verge of climbing the walls I can reach into a bucket, pull one out and we can do an activity together. These activities include fingerpainting in the bathtub, playdough, stickers, coloring, tatoos, bubbles, and one that I was wanting to try called liquid sidewalk chalk. It took 15 minutes to mix up, we painted for about ten minutes, and then when the hose came out, "Spraying Mom With the Water Hose" was an even better game that lasted 45 minutes.

Adam is very big on the "thank you's," "I love you's" and "bless you's" after sneezes. It's adorable and sweet. At school he is the youngest in the two year old class by quite a bit, and he's the only one who can identify all of his colors. At the dentist today, we went to find out if it was normal that he still didn't have all of his canines (she said he's fine, and it's fine to keep giving him the pacifier if it's what soothes him. And of course when she said that he turned to me and begged for the pacifier. I didn't even think he was paying attention, but now when we talk about Dentist, and Teeth, he asks for his pacifier - I guess an "expert" gave him permission.)

At the appointment, he wanted to "color" and tried to take the clipboard away from me when I was filling out his paperwork. I told him I'd take care of it for now and he wandered away in the very small waiting room... and when I looked up 30 seconds later, he had pulled a stool over to the receptionist window, was smiling and talking to the office manager and was asking for a clipboard so he could "color." Mr. Social is definitely not shy.

We got back into a good bedtime routine for Adam so that bedtime isn't so painful (my bed rest during pregnancy was really hard on him so going to bed was a fight and the night terrors were frequent. He was so stressed he couldn't sleep alone. So the first thing I did after Colin and Claire were born was put him back on a good bedtime routine. Every night we read One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish, then we cuddle and sing songs... Mostly the ABC's, his favorite. He is memorizing Dr. Seuss and starting to sing the ABC's with me.

When his teeth are all in, we'll work on getting rid of the paci. Shannon cut the tip off of one the other day to see what Adam would do, and he noticed right away. He was baffled. We told him the paci was broken and he tried it out, but it kept falling out of his mouth. I asked him if he thought maybe it should go in the trash, and he stood over the trash can for about three minutes, contemplating whether it was a good idea. Even though the paci was basically useless, it still didn't deserve that fate. He then asked for a non-broken paci (which we gave him, his teeth are really bothering him and the paci is the only thing that helps), and he held onto the broken one for at least an hour, trying to figure it out.

Now the broken paci is the biggest mystery. When he finds it he tells everyone about his broken paci. "Paci  is broken," is now often heard. Adam had to call Shannon at work yesterday to tell him he had a broken paci. He showed it to Caley: "Broken paci!" When Dad got home from work, Adam ran up to him and even before Shannon got a hug, Adam showed him the paci and exclaimed, "Paci is broken!" I was certain we had passed the window of opportunity to cut the tip off the pacifiers... I had no idea the concept would be so entertaining. At least there were no tears.

Our photos from Brenna Lyn Photgraphy for our newborn photo shoot are almost here, but here's another one from the session. I got to see all of them today, and they are absolutely perfect. I can't wait to print and frame them. In the picture below, the pearls Claire is wearing were my grandmother's, Claire's great-grandmother's. This is going to look perfect framed everywhere.